


with dusted stars

by orphan_account



Series: Soft and Tender [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Freckles, Keith will have a heart attack at the sight of him, M/M, because why not? it's altean magic, things can happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: prompt:thiswork bytaylorgave me ideas.(Keith likes Lance's freckles even more. Lance likes that Keith likes it even more).





	with dusted stars

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy the fluff!

Lance yawns.

“This can’t be normal, you’re having your third cup of coffee,” Hunk says, looking at Lance with narrowed eyes.

“The cafeteria has shit for coffee,” Lance grumbles, sipping the drink. “And I stayed up until crack o’clock in the morning because of this little shit over here,” he points at Pidge, who looks… completely normal, no exhaustion, no fatigue. Fuck, why aren’t they dying from sleep deprivation like Lance is?!

“Who won?” Hunk asks casually and takes a bite from his sandwich— _his_ sandwich, not the burned bread with potatoes that the Garrison calls a “sandwich”.

“Lance,” Pidge deadpans.

_Little. Shit._

“Really?!”

Lance shoves Pidge at the shoulder and turns to Hunk with sheer offense written all over his face.

“No, and what does _that_ mean?!” he exclaims, pointing at Hunk’s face.

“Come on, even Matt couldn’t beat her on that level,” Hunk reasons and Pidge—the evil stupid Megamind brat—snickers. Hunk offers a bite of his sandwich as an apology when Lance doesn’t stop pouting.

Lance bites off more than he can chew, literally. Hunk seems to accept his fate and continues eating the third of his food.

“Lance!” someone calls and when Lance turns around, he sees Allura almost jumping over the tables to reach him. He swallows quickly, worrying that something had gone wrong.

“What? What happened?” he bolts up and grabs her shoulders when she’s close enough. “Did Zarkon come back to life? Allura, please tell me Zarkon did not come back to life.”

“Relax, it’s not an emergency,” she says, panting a little. Lance drops his hands and sighs in relief. “I just have to test something on you.”

Okay, maybe the relief part was a little too soon.

“I’d rather Zarkon walk into this room,” he grimaces.

“It’s nothing like last time, I promise,” she rolls her eyes.

“That’s what you said last time!”

“You should admit, monkey feet were funny on you,” Pidge says. “More natural, y’know.”

“I know where your secret stash of Doritos is, gremlin, watch it,” he threatens.

“Here, put this on,” Allura cuts in, handing him a… neckless?

“Um.”

“It’s not a squirklot’s spout, Lance, put it on,” she rolls her eyes once more, pressing the neckless on his chest.

Lance grabs it, eyes it suspiciously and then slides his gaze to Allura.

“If something happens to me again, you’ll owe me big time, Allura,” he tells her.

“Okay, now put. It. On!”

Lance sighs and looks at the thing one last time. It looks like the ones from Balmera, sky blue and ethereal. It’s shaped like a flat, thin circle, almost completely see-through.

He hangs the rope around his neck and closes his eyes, waiting to explode. Or his hands to become huge. Or his body to shrink.

Nothing happens. He peeks from one eye and looks down at himself—his hands are normal and so is his height. And he’s in one whole piece, so he hasn’t been exploded.

“Um. Is it broken?” he asks, lifting the crystal to look for a crack or something. How do crystals even break? _Do_ they break?

When no one says anything, he glances at them. They’re all just… staring at him.

“What?” he says, panicking; he knew he shouldn’t have trusted Allura! Oh, God, what if it’s his _face?!_ Lance can live with monkey feet but not an imperfect face!

“What?! Is it my face? Allura, what did you do to my face?!” he pipes, padding his face with his hands. “I swear to God, if I’m back at acne phase I will kill you all!”

“Relax,” Hunk says, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. “Your face is as smooth as a baby’s bum-bum.”

“It’s just,” Pidge adds, making a vague gesture with their wrist.

“It works!” Allura chimes.

“What? What works?”

“Okay, so, Veronica was helping out with the crystals and when she touched one, her, uh, frocklits...?” she squints and looks at the other two for help.

“Freckles,” they say, synced.

“Yes, freckles! Her freckles lightened up!”

Lance blinks. He snatches his comm out and puts the front camera on and—

His face, it’s sparkling. His freckles are glowing in a dim baby blue—almost white—color.

What the fuck.

“How?” he mutters, tilting his head side to side. It doesn’t exactly look bad.

“I don’t know, yet,” she says. “I asked Coran and he said freckles might be made from the similar tissue our markings are? We’re still looking into it.”

Lance readies the words for a reply, but—

“Lance!” Shiro pops up into his comm. “Where are you? We’re waiting at the hangars.”

_Shit!_

“Crap, sorry Shiro, be there in a sec,” he sputters, quickly waving his friends goodbye and runs toward the door.

 

.

 

Lance is a puddle of fatigue, to say the very least.

After a day of flying planet to planet, carrying boxes of nourishment and helping the locals with their injuries, two hours of training with his gun _and_ sword, a shittone of _paperwork, ugh,_ and, on top of all, functioning on three hours of sleep all the while, Lance can say, indisputably, he was half-alive when he entered the apartment.

And the worst part is, Keith is not even here. He’s on a mission, so Lance can’t even have his relaxing cuddles and kisses. Where’s God when you need him.

He has taken a quick shower, barely managing not to slip on soap foam, has gotten dressed comfortably—as in Keith’s big, fluffy black hoodie with a small alien head sewed on the side of his chest; it smells like Keith, that earthy smell that’s just so him—and has bundled up on the couch to watch some movies.

He chooses a detective, The Invisible Guest, it’s an old movie but Lance mostly enjoys the old ones anyway.

He’s so into the plot, that when something touches his cheek, he screams and jumps to Mars.

“The hell, dude!” he exclaims, breathing heavily with a hand on his chest while Keith laughs.

Wait. Keith!

He stands up and places his hands on his hips, waiting for the other to stop laughing so he can hug the life out of him—it’s been a week, okay, Lance missed him—and then pinch the life out of him because _Lance almost died._

When Keith finally looks up at him, he freezes, eyes going wide with surprise and mouth hanging open.

Lance frowns, there’s no guacamole in his hair this time. He slides a hand over his hair anyway, a little self-conscious. Nope, no guacamole.

“Wha—”

Keith rushes to him so fast, Lance can’t even blink before his face is being squished.

“Um,” Lance says.

Keith is looking at him like he’s seeing his face for the first time, his eyes flicking through his features. He looks completely awestruck and his gaze is so intense it has the full capability to light his face on fire. Lance frowns, confused. What is he looking—

Oh. _Oh._

The crystal. Lance totally forgot about the fucking crystal. God, he has been wearing it all day? At work?!

Lance laughs, flustered at how Keith is _still_ probing his face like it’s an artwork at a gallery.

“Allura gave me this crystal,” he says. “It… does stuff to my face. I forgot to take it off.”

“Lance,” Keith says. His hands are warm against Lance’s cheeks, his eyes are drowning in—in emotions and devotion and affection and his thumb starts stroking at the spot at the corner of his eye, where his birthmark is—and Lance’s whole face is burning hot and his heart might break through his ribs.

“Yeah?” he breathes out, his knees feel kind of wobbly and his heartbeat is definitely loud enough for the both of them to hear.

It’s been months— _months_ —since they’ve started dating, how can Keith still do this to him?

“You look like starlight,” he says, then frowns, like he’s being overwhelmed. “You look like starlight! So beautiful! How is this even possible?” he adds, squishing Lance’s face even more.

Lance might die, just, FYI. He barely holds back a whimper.

“You’re just—you’re,” his eyes flick down on Lance’s shirt and Lance hears something similar to a groan and a screech at the same time coming from the other boy. “You’re wearing _my clothes!”_

Keith drops his hands and takes a step back, looking him up and down. Lance’s face is unimaginably hot, he doesn’t even want to know what shade of red he is, maroon? Scarlet? All of them?!

“Oh my God,” Keith says, covering his face with his hands.

“Did I break you?”

“You did.”

Lance giggles, stepping closer. He removes Keith’s hands from his face and smiles at him cheekily.

“You want me to have a heart attack?” Keith growls, but wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, pulling him closer until their chests are touching.

“Maybe,” Lance says, and giggles because he can’t help it. Keith is here, and he thinks Lance is beautiful. And he likes that he’s wearing his clothes. Something blooms in his chest, something so warm and promising.

He slides his own arms around Keith’s neck, his finger brushing the white locks.

“I missed you,” he says, smiling sweetly.

“I missed you, too, starlight,” Keith says back; Lance’s heart skips, like, forty-seven beats at the new pet name.

He leans in quickly—partly because he can’t wait to kiss him anymore and partly so Keith won’t see how flustered he truly is.

Lance sighs when Keith pushes back, his arms tightening at his back, holding him closer like he wants more, like he can’t get enough of Lance. Lance wraps his arms tighter, too, melting into the kiss. Keith kisses gently, lingering on Lance’s lips like they have forever. Then he pushes even more, moves with fire and such desire Lance’s fingers mindlessly grip at his hair.

“You—” he leans away, breathless. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are, Lance,” he says, kissing his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Kisses his cheeks and his jaw and his lips. Lance can’t really do anything right now, just stand there, relishing Keith’s caress.

Keith leans away and Lance, with barely mustered strength, slowly peels away his eyelids, feeling drunk and giddy. He watches Keith watch him. He moves his fingers gently, tucking Lance’s hair behind his ear and moves in, sticking his lips on his birthmark and Lance feels so overwhelmed, his chest is so warm and his heart is hammering so loud and fast and—

“Now it looks just like a star,” Keith whispers against his skin in a low, fond voice.

Lance leans in for a hug, tilting his head away from Keith’s lips and burying it in his neck instead. Because if he had stayed there, with Keith so loving and caring, he might’ve fainted. Just drop dead on the floor.

“Are _you_ trying to give me a heart attack?” he whispers, and if his voice is a little shaky, well, Lance hopes Keith won’t notice.

“Payback.”

**Author's Note:**

> Taylor's art is sooo AMAZING, HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN P&P AU??!
> 
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://yourfriendlyneighborsam.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/frendlysam)


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